Just Some Guy
by lovablegeek
Summary: Mark and Roger share a quiet moment in the park. MarkRoger. [One shot]


**Disclaimer:** Mark and Roger do not belong to me. If they did… my girlfriend would never let them out of her sight. "Just Some Guy" belongs to Anthony, and I would have used the lyrics of the whole song if I could have gotten away with it. The song is _adorable_—buy the CD. I mean it.

**Notes: **I hope you're happy, Bethy. I almost died from sugar overload here. This is the last time I write a story this sweet for a _long_ time now. Plus… I feel stupid writing romantical stuff (yes, I know romantical isn't a word—shut up). Only for you, love.

* * *

_And he's holding me now even tighter,  
__And he's breathing me in,  
__And he's telling me now that he loves me,  
__And he's tracing his fingertips over my skin._

_And I'm happier now than I've ever been,  
__And I'm hoping this feeling won't die,  
__And if he says he's just some guy,  
__That's fine.  
__The truth is, he's mine._

_My sweetheart, my love,  
__Sent down from the sky,  
__Who's so very much more  
__Than just some guy._

"Close on Roger, who, for once, has left the house _without_ his guitar. This may be—Hey!" Mark cut off as Roger's hand closed around the lens of his camera, completely darkening the picture. It had been such a lovely shot too, Roger against the backdrop of trees and grass, far enough into the park that you could almost believe they weren't in the city anymore… The filmmaker jerked his head away from the viewfinder to glare at his friend, but Roger simply grinned at him over the camera, keeping his hand firmly blocking the lens.

"And how about Mark, who can't go five minutes without touching his camera?" he asked teasingly, inclining his head to one side as he asked the question. "Come on, put it down or I will break it. Before long I'm going to forget what you look like without a camera plastered to your face."

"But Roger," Mark protested, "I'm trying to—"

Once more, he was forced to break off midsentence, this time as Roger deftly shoved him back onto the grass and kissed him, rather effectively ceasing all speech for the moment. Mark grunted softly at Roger's weight on top of him, and the camera dropped from his fingers, landing on its side on the grass. The smaller man drew a breath, somewhat dizzy at Roger's proximity, but after a moment regained his senses and pushed Roger off of him. Well, tried to push him off, though it didn't do much good until Roger at last decided to oblige and rolled away from the filmmaker, sprawling on his back beside Mark.

"You'd better not have broken my camera," Mark muttered, twisting onto his stomach to reach for it and make sure it hadn't been damaged in the fall. "How am I supposed to finish my film if you keep interrupting me?" However pleasant those interruptions might be…

He shivered slightly as Roger ran a finger lightly along his forearm—bare, for once, with his sweater having been left in the loft because of the summer heat. Hard to concentrate on anything when Roger kept giving him these little kisses, brief touches…

"Come on. Just set it aside for ten minutes," Roger coaxed. "And if it's broken, I'll buy you a new one."

Mark made a softly disapproving noise—Roger knew how fond he was of his old camera, and that he didn't _want_ a new one—but after a moment gave up and glanced back to his friend. Laying there stretched out in the sun, light illumining his features, the musician looked gorgeous, though to judge from the way he sprawled out, he didn't know it, or more probably didn't care.

Seeing the slight hesitation in his lover's eyes, Roger twitched his fingers in a peremptory, beckoning gesture, the faintest hint of a smile hovering on his lips. Realizing that he couldn't possibly win this, Mark rolled his eyes and slowly scooted towards Roger, lying on his back and resting his head on Roger's chest.

"You wouldn't be able to afford a new camera," he told Roger softly, though his mind was hardly on something that practical at the moment, not with his head cradled against the songwriter so close he could hear him breathing, almost hear his heartbeat, and _especially_ not as Roger began to run his fingers lightly through Mark's hair. The smaller man half-closed his eyes in almost catlike pleasure, his breathing slowed in purest relaxation.

"I know," Roger answered after a moment, and though Mark didn't sit up to look, he could hear the smile in his tone. "But I thought I might as well offer."

Ordinarily, Mark might have pointed out how little sense that made… but he hardly noticed it just then. Instead, he twisted around halfway, moving into a position where he could see Roger's face, smiling as he saw the musician watching him with an unconsciously tender expression. One of those rare moments when Roger's "tough man" façade slipped…

Seeing Mark's amused smile, Roger raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"It's nothing," Mark answered softly. "I love you."

The phrase slipped from him before he could stop it, and Mark mentally winced as he felt Roger tense slightly. Shit. Had he just ruined this completely? He'd never said that to Roger before, and even if it was true, he couldn't help thinking that it might frighten Roger away. The kisses, the teasing, all of that was one thing, but this…

"I love you too, Mark."

All of Mark's worries dissipated immediately. He let out a soft, half disbelieving laugh and rolled over completely, one hand spread flat on Roger's chest above his heart, the other moving to lightly run along Roger's jawline. Tilted on its side, the camera caught Mark's smile as Roger wrapped his arms around his lover and pulled him close for a kiss.


End file.
